A Coming Change of Heart
by Victorian Voice
Summary: The old evil is gone, yet a new one begins and it seems to be starting with good hearts.


_Disclaimer: I do not own any of this material except for the plot._

_**The wind blew shrilly. It blew through the trees, whipping the leaves and branches off and carrying them yards away. Stray cats ran for cover in burrows and other forms of shelter. Birds and other creatures flew or scuttled to their hollows and homes. This was no mortal wind. In houses, there were whispers that echoed from worried tongues:**_ _He is back_.

**Chapter One: Vanishing Evil**

The marks of Death Eaters burned as if hot irons were held on their arms. The loyal apparated to his side, yet the worrisome and the unfaithful hid in trenches and applied spells of secrecy. The wind blew through all of them and tried to snatch them away, to make them levitate unwillingly to a spot not of their choice.

"Where is he?" Crabbe shouted to the figures in black coats. However, his voice was silenced by the wind, so the words that were uttered were not heard. Each of the figures was moving, trying hard to stay on the ground. No one was paying attention to the man walking down the hill in a steady pace.

The wind abruptly stopped, yet the men and women watched the wind propel around them less than six yards away. Only in the large circle that contained them all did the wind not reach.

"Where is he?" Crabbe repeated, looking around, "I was called to be here, yet where is he?" His voice was dull and monotone, yet his face turned red and beefy. Though the hoods covered each man's face, the eyes hidden in the shadows met the eyes of the people around them. The silence was deafening, even if it was like a raging war less than six yards away. No one spoke for minutes, which seemed to drag by.

"Be quiet, you idiot, he _is_ near," said figure across from Crabbe barked. The wind behind them shrieked and howled, protesting against the barrier between it and living flesh. The figures watched the trees as they rocked back and forth on the hinges of their roots. They heard exploding snaps and groans coming from the environment around them all.

"I am near Lucius, and thank you, Crabbe, for awaiting me with such patience. Such patience, Lucius. If I was your long lost mother, I would be proud," the voice mocked, and turned to Crabbe. "Stupidity has to be rewarded doesn't it, Crabbe?" the voice behind Lucius spoke. The voice talked softly, yet it seemed to be everywhere. Crabbe, confused, nodded in response – he never was a thinker. The rest of the figures bowed down.

"Greetings Master," they all spoke. Voldemort stood inside of the rough circle.

"Yes, _Greetings Master_," Voldemort spoke, again, in a mocking tone, "the best you can do? And I must say, Crabbe, you have over did yourself," Voldemort pointed his wand at him, "Your reward is not as bad as it should be, for deserting me as you have done. Did you not tell the press you were Imprius curse, did you not? You never had brains to think about that. If you were under that curse, you would be dead. Oh do not worry; you will not get your dream yet... Nevertheless, close! _Crucio!_" and Crabbe lay withering in pain of the bitter, hard ground in front of Voldemort. While Crabbe was screaming and withering in agony, Voldemort continued to speak.

"It has been quite a while since we have last met. Dumbledore, now dead, has left _Harry Potter_ unprotected. Except for his stupid friends, there is not a shield to protect him from harms way, is there not?" and Voldemort moved from one Death Eater from another, taking their hoods off one by one.

"Many of you have done the same as Crabbe, lied about being attached to me in anyway or made excuses about why you have served me. I cannot have unfaithful wizards getting rid of Harry. You men were not able to get a prophecy from a group of fifth years! Not everyone here is as dumb as that! Or are you?"

"– It wasn't entirely our fault, the Order came in and started to duel us and –" and new voice began quickly.

"QUIET!" he roared, pointing his wand at the speaker, Bellatrix, "_You_, my dear, went back to Azkaban. What use have you been to me there?" Voldemort walked around the figures in black, his voice talking over the wind, Crabbe's moans and screams of torture, and the lightning that started seconds before.

"I killed Serious Black –" she muttered shakily.

"NO YOU DID NOT! He was blasted into that veil! He resides there, HE IS NOT DEAD!" and Voldemort turned to everyone. "Fools! All of you are incompetent people – MUDBLOODS! Pure and refined blood, yet you all still have no power. Dare you dispute this? Anyone – of course not!" All twenty-two Death Eaters there were cowering, fighting the urge to run for it. Master was obviously was in a bad mood.

"As you can see, I alerted everyone that I am back. For I am," he whispered. "My Death Eaters, my servants, Harry Potter has continuously tried to kill me. He was never succeeded." The moon was covered by the dark clouds that covered the sky resembling a soft blanket. Voldemort walked to the Crabbe, who was now a worthless heap screeching and moving around with complete pain, and lifted the curse from him.

"Crabbe," he said sweetly, nudging Crabbe with his foot, "do you know why Harry Potter has never succeeded?" Crabbe nodded, and tried to stand up. Shakily standing he tumbled down to the ground in a heap.

"So...why?"

"Because you are invincible," Crabbe answered from the dirt.

"Yes, you get the idea. When you deserted me you thought that I had gone, had been destroyed," Voldemort spoke in a voice sugar coated with sweetness, which could choke you from the disgusting sound, cupping Crabbe's face as caring as a mother does... and slapped him to the ground. Rain began to pound as the rough circle.

"Unlike all of you," he hoarsely shouted in rage, "I am immortal and will never leave this world. My magic contains me – encloses me – in a cloak of mystery and power. From where I go, to every step I take, I create destruction and you all make my work look like a cake with icing and flowers."

"We try our best, master...," a man whispered, his voice barely heard in his ears. Voldemort turned, and like a wolf stalking its prey, he shouted "ADAVADA KEDABRA" at the top of his lungs. The stream of violent force issued from his wand and knocked the man off his feet. He was dead before he hit the ground. The rest of the Death Eaters could only flinch. No show of emotion was allowed to show. Voldemort looked at each participant and then stared at the man's lifeless body in front of him. A chuckle rose to a laugh, which ended up in a malicious spurt of evil noises coming out of the demon's mouth. A popping noise outburst and he was gone. Voldemort; the devil of the living world vanished from the sight of the Death Eaters. Then the circle that shielded them all from the wind shattered, and all hell broke lose.

**23 PEOPLE DISAPPEAR DURING VIOLENT WINDS**

**by Rita Skeeter**

**Two days ago, violent winds shook all over the globe. In England, there seems to be a count of 23 men missing. From what is known, all 23 wizards and witches vanished mid-afternoon. The frightening thought that echoes in most people's mouth is that You-Know-Who returned. His return may link with the missing wizards and witches. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, announced almost 60 percent of these people as Death Eaters. This fact has worried the Ministry of Magic, who have given an okay to the search for these missing people. Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, would not open to the press of his suspicions and thoughts on this turn up. Most employees from the ministry say that those wizards and witches are already dead.**


End file.
